


What pleases me

by EllieStormfound



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix It, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Mention of alcohol, jaskier is drunk, post-mountain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieStormfound/pseuds/EllieStormfound
Summary: Post Mountain fix it. In which Jaskier tries to drink his sorrows away when Geralt suddenly appears(this has a happy ending!)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 174





	What pleases me

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this a while ago on tumblr and just found it again :D

“Why are your eyes so red?” Geralt asked.  
Jaskier jumped in surprise. He hadn’t noticed someone approaching his table. The bard was sitting in a shitty, dark and dirty tavern in a village in the middle of nowhere. His doublet was open but not in any attempt to seduce someone, just because he didn’t care. He had stopped caring after he stumbled down a mountain two weeks ago, angry words thrown at him still ringing in his ears.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jaskier huffed, “and why the fuck do you care? Life did finally give you the blessing of getting me off your hands. So fuck off and leave me be.”  
Jaskier was strangely proud that he had managed - in spite of the bottle of cheap awful red wine he had already downed - to get this out without slurring the words - at least he thought so.

Geralt was silent for a moment, looking from the bard, who pointedly looked anywhere but at him, to his hands.  
“Have you been crying?” Geralt asked quietly.

“Since when do you care?” Jaskier asked, “maybe I am just allergic to your stupid face. So fuck off before I shovel shit on you again, like I apparently did for the last 20 YEARS OF MY FUCKING USELESS LIFE.” His voice had gotten louder with every word.

Geralt flinched slightly as Jaskier threw the words he had said after the dragon hunt back at him. Geralt had tried to forget the awful things he said to the bard. But now the shame he had felt right after they left his mouth rose up in him again. 

The thing was that Jaskier had abstained from drinking any alcohol till tonight because he knew alcohol always enhanced his feelings. If he was happy, a few glasses of ale would make him jubilant, but if he was sad, angry or hurt (or all three at once), he would feel infinitely worse and cry for half the night. 

But because nothing else had worked to make him feel any better - singing, composing new songs, dancing, fucking - he thought a night getting pissed and crying his eyes out could maybe help to get all this misery out of his system. 

And at exactly this night Geralt of fucking Rivia, the one responsible for his horrible mood, decided to grace him with his presence and ask stupid questions. How was he supposed to forget him, when he was standing right in front of him?

“Jaskier,” Geralt began, unsure of what to say. After a moment he gestured vaguely to Jaskier and the table with the empty bottle of wine, “is this because of me?”  
“Maybe it’s hard for you to understand,” Jaskier said, finally looking at the wither, pointing at his chest, “but not everything revolves around you. Not everything I do is because of you.”  
Geralt furrowed his brows, pointing at an empty chair, “can I sit?”  
“No, but you will do it anyway…” Geralt sat down, as Jaskier had predicted.

“Maybe I just like this fine establishment and the exquisite wine they serve here,” the bard said, gesturing around.   
Geralt just raised an eyebrow, “can I talk to you, Jaskier?”  
“You are already talking to me, why ask now?”

“You don’t make this easy for me…” Geralt replied, rubbing his hands over his face.  
“I don’t make it EASY FOR YOU?”, Jaskier started to raise his voice again, face red.  
“You are right,” Geralt grumbled, lifting his hands in defeat “I am sorry, Jaskier, I am sorry for this, and for what I said on the mountain and for everything. I’ve been looking for you the past two weeks to apologize.”

The bard tried to focus his eyes on him, but couldn’t quite manage it. He leaned his head back at the wall, closing his eyes, “yeah, whatever.”  
“Jaskier, did you hear me?”  
Geralt could see that Jaskier rolled his eyes even with them closed, “yeah, I heard you, you are sorry… bla bla bla… I am not THAT drunk.” 

Jaskier opened his eyes as he heard footsteps and waved to the barmaid, shouting louder than strictly necessary, “another bottle of this fine wine, my lady.”  
Geralt furrowed his brows again, “should you be drinking that much?”  
“Are you my mother now?” the bard replied. 

They sat in silence for a while till the barmaid brought a dusty bottle of wine over, not bothering to get Geralt a glass. She waited with an outstretched hand till Jaskier placed a coin in it.

The bottle stayed untouched and for a while the two men sat in silence.  
When Geralt had finally organized his thoughts and got up the nerve he said, “Jaskier, I wanted you at least to know that I did not mean any of the words I said to you on the mountain and that I am so sorry.” He was looking down at his hands and continued, “the thing with Yennefer… I was so hurt and I just wanted someone else to hurt as badly as I did and you were there…”

Jaskier stayed silent, so after a deep breath Geralt continued, “sorry, this is a shitty apology, I am… not good with words…” and more quietly, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”  
“Maybe not,” the bard replied, breathing out slowly and continued, “but forgiveness is not about deserving but about choice. At least for me.” 

He had opened his eyes again, looking at Geralt. All the anger and rage he had felt just moments ago gone.  
“And I chose to forgive you.”  
Geralt looked up in surprise, the slightest hint of hope in his eyes.  
“But…”  
“No buts,” Jaskier said, “I am still hurt and I don’t think everything can or should go back to where it was before, but I was never able to stay mad at you for long…and I really missed you”, the last words were barely audible.

The witcher looked up in surprise. He had moved his chair closer to Jaskier without him noticing. They were sitting so close now that their elbows were brushing. After a moment Geralt turned to Jaskier and lifted his hand slowly to Jaskier’s face, softly brushing his thumb over the warm skin of his cheek. 

“I think I worked out what pleases me,” Geralt whispered, his face so close to the other’s that Jaskier could feel his warm breath on his skin.

Slowly but deliberately the witcher leaned closer, till their lips met, first just a light brush and after another breath more firmly. Geralt inhaled the familiar scent of his bard, something he had not realised he had missed, the scent of home. 

To his surprise the bard drew back after a moment. “Stop, Geralt,” he said.  
“I’m sorry,” the witcher began, “I thought…”  
“No, I mean yes, I want to kiss you,” Jaskier said, “but I want to be sober for this.” He gestured between them. 

With a hopeful smile Geralt asked, “so you will kiss me tomorrow?”  
The bard laughed, a melodic sound Geralt had missed even more than his scent, “probably, if this is not some drunken hallucination of mine…”

With a grin Geralt got up, “I ask the barmaid for a room for the night.”  
“I have a room already, we can share,” Jaskier said, and with a giggle, “like in the good old days.”  
Geralt laughed, held out his hand for his bard and said, “like in the good old days.”


End file.
